“I’m fucking sick of his attitude,” Beckett says.
“Myattitude?” Lawson says. “Jesus, at least I’m here for hockey and not as some publicity stunt.”
“This is not the time for this! Jesus!” I shove at them both.
“So what do we do if the players fighting are on the same team?” Tanner asks the other referees.
I shake my head and look over to where Nora is sitting.
Well, now standing. Everyone is on their feet.
She looks worried though. Upset even.
I don’t fucking like that.
These two jackasses upset Nora on this night when things were going so wellfor herand making her happy.
This is bonkers hockey. It makes no sense. It’s constantly changing. There’s no set rules.
But everyone is having a great time. At least they were.
“Come on,” I say to Beckett and Lawson.
“What?” Beckett asks.
“Where?” Lawson asks.
“Center ice. There’s got to be a penalty for this, right?” I grab them both by the back collar of their jerseys and skate to the middle of the rink.
The spotlight finds me. “Well,” I say to the crowd. “I guess as the captain of the Revelers?—”
“You’re the captain?” Beckett asks.
“I am now,” I tell him dryly.
There’s light laughter all around.
“As the captain,” I say again, addressing the crowd. “It’s kind of a me problem when two players onmyteam go at it, I guess.” I look from Lawson to Beckett. “So I suppose I’m the one who needs to do something about it.”
They both look at me with curiosity. Not fear or intimidation, which I should probably be offended by, but interest and mild amusement.
I sigh.
“Can I borrow your mic, Nora?” I ask.
Her eyes widen, and she looks, thank God, delighted again.
She’s behind the glass, but right by her first row seat is a door that leads onto the ice. She skates out, handing me the mic.
“What are you doing?” she asks softly.
“Trying to remember the real goal here tonight,” I tell her.
Her smile tells me this is the right call.
I clear my throat.
And start singing.
